


Balls and Bugles

by FernyMike



Category: South Park
Genre: Closeted Character, Football, High School, M/M, Marching Band, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:50:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26730175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FernyMike/pseuds/FernyMike
Summary: High school AU in which Kyle is a frustrated gay nerd pining after the completely, one-hundred percent straight Stan.You know where this is going...
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kenny McCormick/Leopold "Butters" Stotch, Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh, Stan Marsh/Wendy Testaburger
Comments: 7
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Story from an old account that I thought I would go ahead and re-post here. Enjoy!

On a blistering summer afternoon, the South Park Highschool marching band filled out of the building and walked towards the football field. Kyle, a senior and the band’s drum major, was talking with Butters, a flautist.

“So Kyle, what do you think of this year’s halftime show?”

Kyle shrugged indifferently. “I don’t mind it, but I’d rather be playing than conducting.”

“You still get that great mellophone solo, though!”

“Well I can’t complain about that.”

As they approached the field, Kyle and Butters could see the football team practicing. Kyle checked his watch: it was 11:55, meaning that the team would need to be done soon so rehearsal could start. Both boys took a seat in the only shaded part of the bleachers.

“How are your college apps coming along?” Butters asked.

“Fine. Narrowed down to CU Boulder, USC and Oberlin. What about you?’

“Oh I’ve decided to take a gap year. Get some work and volunteer experience before making any commitments.”

Kyle gave a teasing grin. “Are you sure it has nothing to do with Kenny taking a gap year as well?”

Butters gave Kyle a light shove as he laughed. “Maybe, maybe not! We want to see how things work out _after_ high school, possibly go to the same college. Hey! If you went to CU then we three could live together off-campus!”

They carried on that way, losing track of time, until Kyle realized that it was 12:10 and the football team was only just finishing up practice.

“Shit, dude; Mr. Garrison is gonna be floored when he finds out we started late.”

Butters, without any prompting, stood on top of one of the seats and shouted: “Hey, football team! Get off the band field!”

Kyle went red and quickly pulled Butters down. “Butters, sshh!”

Now Butters went red. “Whoops, I’m sorry, Kyle.” They both started to make there way down to the field when Butters nudged Kyle and said in a knowing tone: “Hey, is that _the_ Stan Marsh?”

Kyle looked to the center of the field and went red again. There was Stan Marsh, senior quarterback and dreamboat. “It sure is.” Stan looked at Butters who was making fishy lips at him. Kyle gave him a good shove. “Come on, we need to get everyone set up.”

Some well-intentioned shouting got the band into position quickly and within minutes they were warming up. Kyle busied himself with setting up the podium from which he would conduct.

“Hey, it’s Kyle, right?”

Kyle turned around and felt his heart do a flip: it was Stan. Stan was easily half-a-foot taller than Kyle and bulkier, but he looked down at Kyle with an earnest smile.

“...y-yes, that’s me.”

“Hey, nice to meet you. I just wanted to apologize for our practice going late.”

Kyle cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? Oh! Oh yeah, don’t worry about it. You guys are looking pretty, uh… pretty good this year.” He bit a lip at his unfortunate loss for words.

“Thanks. My uncle thinks we have a decent chance of getting into the state championships, so we’ve really been working it.”

Kyle stole a glance at Stan’s toned body, freely exposed by his cutoff shirt and athletic shorts. “I can see that.”

“You, uh, do cross country, right?”

“I do, but not this year ‘cause I’m pretty busy, but I also do track and field.”

“Right on. I’ve sometimes seen you and Bebe at practice or running around town, so I thought you looked familiar.”

Kyle ran a hand through his bushy red hair. _Holy shit, he knows I exist._ “Heh, not like you. I mean, everyone knows who you are, so… uh… yeah.” Kyle looked at the ground hoping he would just melt way.

“Anyway, dude, I gotta run off to weights, but maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Definitely. See you around.”

Stan flashed a parting smile, then gave Kyle’s shoulder a light slap as he ran off to the school gym. Kyle watched him the whole way, and when he returned his attention to the band, he could see Butters wink at him while he made those same fishy lips.

“So how’d it go with Stan?” Butters asked as he drove Kyle home from rehearsal that evening.

“It was… intimidating? But maybe because he’s just so good looking. He was nice, though.”

Butters grinned as he took a left onto the street where Kyle lived. “How long have you been crushing on him? Since the start of junior year?”

“Yep. The same time he started dating Wendy.”

Butters dropped the teasing. “What can do you, Stan? Some guys just aren’t like us.”

Kyle cocked his head to the side. “A keen observation.”

They pulled up to Kyle’s house, said their goodbyes, and soon Kyle was in his room decompressing. Mr. Garrison had pitched a fit about the football team going over and told Kyle that next time they should just force their way on and start rehearsal. Kyle barely took notice of the rant, or really anything else that day. The rest of it had been spent replaying his encounter with Stan in his mind.

It was odd. Kyle had spent a year putting Stan on a pedestal of handsome athletic godliness, when in fact he was just a normal nice guy. Very nice, in fact - Kyle could see the two of them talking again, maybe going for a run and working up a good sweat. The thought of a heaving, sweaty Stan pulled Kyle’s attention away from his imagination to his penis, which firmly stood to attention.

Locking the door and turning on some music, Kyle laid in bed imagining Stan there with him in all his naked glory, his hands on Kyle’s body and really working up a sweat. It took no time for Kyle to finish, biting his lip to keep his whimpering down. He cleaned himself up slightly then went to shower, head against the wall in frustration.

 _Of all the guys,_ he thought, _it had to be the one who’s straight as an arrow._

Returning to his room, he noticed a Facebook notification on his phone: **Stan Marsh has sent you a friend request!**

Kyle cautiously opened the app and paused before clicking **accept** and then looked through Stan’s profile. He was again surprised to find that Stan had by all measures a completely normal account: about 300 friends including his family; maybe a dozen photos of his own, though he was tagged in dozens more; and no self-righteous or political posts to be found.

Kyle wrestled with the notion of messaging Stan, but ultimately he left the app and put his phone away. _Be realistic, Kyle._


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of camp passed without any further conversation with Stan, though Kyle would sometimes walk over during lunch break and watch the team practice. He knew that it was pointless to fantasize about and yearn for Stan, but there didn’t seem to be any remedy for his desire.

Fall semester finally came around, hopefully with enough distractions to keep Kyle from being too mopey. His schedule was much to his liking: Anatomy, Math, English and Chemistry in the morning; then lunch; finally study hall, History and Concert Band.

_Here we are: room 132 - Anatomy with… oh my god_.

The whole room was packed and there was only one empty desk; the desk right next to it was filled by none other than Stan. Kyle debated if he should just run away and take the absence, but Stan saw him first, smiling and waving him over to the empty desk.

_Shit._ Kyle slowly walked over and sat down.

Stan lightly patted Kyle’s shoulder. “I guess we’ll have a few classes together.”

Kyle stared just below Stan’s mouth, hoping that he didn’t look too ridiculous as his breathing started to pick up. “Y-Yeah, it will be cool.”

Stan turned to his other side and started talking with Clyde, another football player, giving Kyle some time to calm himself down.

_This is fine. Just be cool._

The first day of class was spent going over the syllabus and handing out books and was over soon enough. Kyle started walking in the direction of his math class when he jumped at a firm slap on the back. It was Stan, again.

“Hey dude, where are you heading off to?”

“Me? Um, just Math.”

“Oh cool! I’ve got French now. Could we compare schedules really quick?”

Kyle handed over his schedule with a shaking hand and Stan quickly scanned both papers. “Oh sweet! We have the same lunch and study hall, and even the same history class.” He smiled at Kyle. “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

Kyle felt his breathing increase again. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Stan peeled off with a “See ya” while Kyle continued down the hall in a lustful stupor.

History class was a relief for Kyle: it was his favorite non-music subject, and there was an alphabetic seating chart, so he didn’t have to sit next to Stan. He did, however, sit further back in the class than he liked, and could see Stan a couple rows ahead and a seat to the side.

Stan had worn dark jeans and his letterman jacket, but he’d taken that off, exposing a light blue v-neck t-shirt which fit him all too well. He was social and friendly with everyone around him and frequently smiling or laughing. Kyle buried his face in his anatomy textbook looking for a distraction, but one was not easily found.

When the bell rang, Kyle sprinted out of the room and down the hall to concert band where his French Horn was waiting for him. He was warming up when Butters came over to talk.

“How’s your first day?”

Kyle finished some horn rips before answering: “It’s going to be a long year.” He explained why that was going to be the case.

Butters howled with laughter. “This is too good, Kyle. You get to spend the next few months fawning over him.”

Kyle blew into his horn and rolled his eyes simultaneously. “You seem to be enjoying this more than me, dude.”

“Look at it this way; every day you’ll sit in simmering sexual tension and then you’ll be all set to jack it when you get home.”

A forceful cough caught both of them off guard. “Butters, perhaps you and Kyle could discuss such topics _after_ class.”

“Oh, uh, sorry, Mr. Garrison.”

Butters walked back to his seat, but Mr. Garrison stayed and asked Kyle: “How’s your audition material coming along?”

“Good, I think.” 

“When and where is your first audition?”

“January 31st at Oberlin. The Strauss is really challenging, but the Mozart is coming along fine.”

Mr. Garrison nodded in approval and then walked back to the front of the class to start the rehearsal. Stan’s uncle wasn’t the only one with high expectations for that year. Mr. Garrison had spent the last few years grooming Kyle and Butters for leadership positions and was hell-bent on winning the state band championship in the spring. Kyle wasn’t worried - he knew he could handle anything that was thrown at him - but he wasn’t so sure of others.

“Alright, kids, that was some mediocre sight-reading,” said Mr. Garrison when the bell rang. “Maybe tomorrow will be better. Oh! Marching band rehearsal at 7 tonight, you little shits better be there!”


	3. Chapter 3

Mr. Hatte had sprung a surprise quiz on his chemistry class in the second full-week of class. Kyle barely flinched and completed it with half the period remaining, and Mr. Hatte let him leave early as a sign of admiration for a job well done. As soon as Kyle closed the door to the classroom, he felt his phone vibrate and promptly checked it; there was a messenger notification.

**Stan Marsh - 9/17, 11:01 am: Hey dude, wanna grab some BK for lunch?**

Kyle nervously replied with: **Sure. You driving?**

Stan confirmed that he would and minutes later they were driving away from the school. “I feel like we haven’t talked in awhile; how have things been?”

Kyle knew what Stan meant, and in fact it had been by design. If anything, he was crushing harder on Stan than ever before and he had put some distance between them. They chatted every now and then before anatomy, and Stan had even liked Kyle’s most recent FB profile photo, but that all was more than enough to get Kyle hot and bothered. “Things have been pretty good. I, uh… I got out of chem class early, so that’s pretty nice.” He fidgeted with his thumbs and looked out the window as he asked: “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“I have weights this period, but we have a substitute, so I pulled a _I’m going to go practice with Clyde_ and just left. I guess that was pretty naughty of me.”

Kyle breathed sharply. “Yeah, I guess it was pretty naughty, and I know a thing or two about being naughty.” He’d meant it as a joke but regretted it the instant it left his mouth. He looked over at Stan, who just grinned and chuckled.

“Hard to think of you as being naughty, dude; you never skip class and always turn your homework in early. Ah, here we are.”

They pulled into the parking lot and went in to eat. Kyle was amazed that Stan ordered two large cheeseburgers, a large fry and a large coke; Kyle ordered just a small chicken nuggets meal.

Stan was working his way through his second burger when he asked: “How’s band?”

“The marching band?”

“No, the _band_ band. You play horn, right?”

Kyle was surprised. “Yeah. How did you know that?”

“I don’t have a class last period, and I was walking by the band room while you were playing a solo, I think. You sound pretty damn good, dude.”

“Thank you, Stan; that’s really nice of you.”

Stan smiled a “You’re welcome,” as he stood up to throw his trash out. “My older sister is a horn performance major at CU, actually, so I guess I’m somewhat attuned to how it should sounds.” He shrugged and added an uncertain: “I guess.”

They got in Stan’s car and drove back to school mostly in silence until Stan asked: “Is there anyone you’re thinking of asking to homecoming?”

Kyle had been chilled out for most of the time with Stan, but now he became very nervous. “What, homecoming? Um, no not really. What, uh, what uh-about you? ImguessingyoullprobablygowithWendyright?”

Stan narrowed his brow as he processed Kyle’s words, then offered a succinct: “Yeah, probably.” Stan turned onto a street by the school and parked. “Maybe you could go with friends? You and Butters seem pretty tight.”

“He’s a good friend, but I’m not sure what he and Kenny have planned.”

“Oh right,” mused Stan. “Did you know that _both_ of them are taking a gap year?” Kyle said that he did and Stan laughed. “I gave Kenny a little grief over that, but hey! - whatever. It’s cool that they have a good thing going.”

Kyle smiled sheepishly and agreed with Stan.

“Ack! Holy shit, dude!” Tweek was nearly shaking Kyle by the shoulders when Kyle talked about his lunch with Stan.

Butters offered a more evened out commentary. “Well, Kyle, it seems that Stan has taken a liking to you.”

Kyle pushed Tweek back onto the floor where he had been sitting. “It was an interesting experience.” He sighed. “I’ve really tried to keep it casual with him, but he just keeps talking with me.”

“Isn’t t-that what you w-want?”

“I mean… yes?” Kyle threw his hands up in exasperation. “But what’s going to happen? Probably nothing.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being his friend, Kyle.” Butter shifted his position while he said: “Maybe over time you’ll come to see him as just a friend. Albeit a good looking one.”

Kyle sighed loudly and fell back on the floor. The three of them had been spending Friday nights together for a few months, and recently the topic of Stan had come up every time. “Maybe he’ll get bored with me and we’ll just stop talking. That’s the best of all outcomes, I think.”

“You never know h-how people will change, man. Sometimes is just, inside of them waiting to come out.”

Kyle smirked and retorted: “So true, Tweak. So true.”


	4. Chapter 4

The first home game of the season came around in the last week of September, and Kyle was sweating bullets enough for the whole band.

Rehearsals had not been going well: music wasn’t learned, formations looked terrible, and Kyle’s solo had been given over to the spiteful Eric Cartman.

“Can you even believe this shit, dude?”

Butters tried to strike a conciliatory tone. “Come on now, Kyle. Eric sounds alright.”

“It’s not about that, though. That was _my_ goddamn solo, and Cartman just went and threw a temper tantrum to get it.”

Butters just shrugged. “How’s bae?”

“Bae? Oh.” Kyle had not spoken much with _Stan_ since their trip to Burger King, but they still chatted every once in a while. 

“Rumor has it that things aren’t too good between him and Wendy.”

“I wouldn’t know, he’s never brought her up to me.” Kyle narrowed his brow. “What are the rumors?”

“Some people have seen Wendy and Token looking very chummy, and you know what kind of conclusions people can jump to.”

“I mean, I get it. Token isn’t bad looking, though he doesn’t do much for me if I’m to be honest.”

“Oh I know. You go for hunky football stars instead of brooding intellectuals.”

Kyle gave Butters’ chair a playful kick. They had been sitting in a practice room eating dinner and waiting for the 6 o’clock call time for the game. Someone knocked on the door and opened it without invitation: it was Mr. Garrison.

“Do you have the solo memorized?”

“You mean _Cartman’s_ solo?”

“Don’t get petty with me, Kyle. Do you have it memorized?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good. Cartman decided that tonight of all nights was a good time to have diarrhea, so it’s _your_ solo again.” With that, Mr. Garrison closed the door.

Kyle looked at Butters and sighed. “I better go memorize it.”

The game was a complete slaughter.

The visiting team, the Westchester Reds, may as well have been a gaggle of toddlers; by halftime, the South Park Bulls were up 35-0.

Kyle stood at the head of the band just off of the field, mellophone in hand and surveying the crowd. Most of the Westchester side was empty, but South Park’s was fully filled and everyone was in a good mood.

“Maybe they won’t notice how shitty the middle movement sounds,” mused Kyle.

“Ack! What’s wrong w-with the middle movement?”

“Nothing, Tweek.” Kyle patted Tweek’s snare drum in a patronizing fashion. “Just worry about looking pretty for Craig.”

Tweek walked to the back of the band with the rest of the drum line just as the players were coming off the field. Stan ran by with helmet in hand and yelled: “Good luck out there!”

The drum line tapped off a steady beat and the band lurched onto the field. Kyle diverted to the podium that stood just in front of the stands. He’d managed to memorize the solo just before they were due to go on and he supposed that he had the best possible spot to play it.

Once everyone was in position, Kyle and Tweek made eye contact and synchronized the countoff to Kyle’s conducting.

Tap. Tap. Tap Tap Tap Tap.

The band was off.

The first movement - an upbeat march with a modern rhythm - proceeded well, though by the end it had slowed down considerably. The second movement - a soothing lullaby in which the band hardly moved - went better than expected, and there was even a brief applause from the stands.

The third movement was where everything fell apart. The countoff was not properly synchronized; half the band followed the drum line while the other followed Kyle’s hands. A minute later, the woodwinds created a block which was to march forward, but some missed it completely while others initially marched the wrong way. By the time the drum break arrived, band members were scattered across the field and finishing at different times.

Kyle climbed down the stand to pick up his mellophone. This is it, The drums are playing together, so all I have to do is nail this entry and we’ll all be synced-up again.

As the solo approached and Kyle went to take a breath, he lost focus and thought of Stan running off the field, which reminded him of Stan wearing cutoffs, which reminded him of the time he fantasized about Stan’s penis.

Kyle flubbed the first note of the solo, and things did not improve.

Fuck me man. That was absolutely awful.

Butters’ response came a few seconds later.

**Butters — 9/27, 11:11 pm**

**Don’t beat yourself up too much, Stan. Mistakes happen. And really, your solo wasn’t the worst part; at least you recovered.**

Kyle let the sideways insult slide: **At least we won.** The final score had been South Park 55, Winchester 6.

**Butters — 9/27, 11:15 pm**

**We still have two weeks until homecoming. Plenty of time to improve.**

Kyle put his phone down and went to get ready for bed. Normally he would stay up well into the early morning on weekends, but his heart wasn’t into it tonight. He came back to a series of texts from Butters.

**Butters — 9/27, 11:19 pm**

**Dude, have you seen Facebook?**

**Butters — 9/27, 11:22 pm**

**Seriously, Kyle, you should check out Facebook.**

**Butters — 9/27, 11:27 pm**

**Uh, Kyle? You there?**

Kyle responded with: **I’m getting on Facebook now. What’s the big deal?**

**Butters — 9/27, 11:31 pm**

**Check out Stan’s Facebook ;-)**

Kyle went there straight away and his jaw dropped. Right there in indelible Sengoe UI was the following:

Relationship Status: Single

After the shock wore off, Kyle asked: **What happened???**

**Butters — 9/27, 11:34 pm**

**I heard from Eric that Stan went over to see Wendy after the game and she leveled with him. Apparently she had a thing with Token and they’re together, but it isn’t FB-official yet.**

Kyle leaned back in his chair, taking the whole situation in: Stan and Wendy had been the real deal, or at least everyone thought. Kyle summed up his feelings to Butters: **Holy shit, dude. What a fucking day.**


	5. Chapter 5

Kyle had not spoken with Stan in the days since the breakup. Stan held himself together during classes and was still social, but Kyle could see that he was bothered by the incident. He messaged Stan on a whim one day: **Hey, wanna grab lunch?**

**Stan Marsh - 10/3, 11:25 am: Not lunch, but maybe something after school?**

Kyle agreed and they met by Stan’s car later that day. They got in the car in silence and Stan began driving them aimlessly away from the school.

Kyle broke the silence as they came to a red light. “I don’t want to pry, but… I just want to say that I’m sorry about Wendy.”

Stan stared out the front window for a moment before saying: “The crazy thing is, I kind of saw it coming and had already made peace with it.”

That caught Kyle off-guard. “R-Really?” Stan had seemed to be bearing the situation with quiet dignity, but now he seemed completely unphased it.

“Things hadn’t been good for a while; we weren’t talking much or spending time together anymore. If it weren’t for the whole Token thing, then I probably would have ended it with us on good terms.”

Kyle narrowed his brow into a sympathetic look. “I’m still sorry.”

Stan looked over and smiled at him. “I appreciate that, dude.”

The light turned green and they took off again, this time with some more lighthearted conversation.

Kyle eventually asked: “So are you still going to homecoming?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well since neither of us are going, maybe we could do something together.”

“You mean go to the dance _together_?”

“W-What?! No! I mean, we could do a no-homecoming. Like eat Burger King and watch bad movies.”

Stan’s head made a thoughtful bob to the side. “I might be down for that, dude. You’ve become a pretty good friend lately, so it’s about time we hung out.”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Man, this is why you don’t give solos to a Jew!”

Kyle arrived to Cartman’s anti-Semitic banter at marching band rehearsal that evening. Normally Kyle would gladly engage in a shouting match, but he was in a good mood after his impromptu outing with Stan and decided to stay away from it.

“Maybe Mr. Garrison should give me all the solos for the rest of the year.”

Kenny, who had lingered while dropping off Butters, supplied a retort: “Yeah, Cartman, maybe you can get up on the podium and defecate in front of everyone!”

Kenny pecked Butters’ goodbye before easily evading the overweight Cartman, who instead hurled a few choice insults.

“Fucking poor ass… moutherfucking… poor ass… guy.”

“Alright, Eric, thank you for the entertainment.” Mr. Garrison got everyone setup for that evening’s rehearsal. “Now kids, I don’t think I need to tell you how underwhelming last Friday’s performance was, so we really need to work it for homecoming.”

Mr. Garrison’s idea of working “it” was to force the band to march through the entire show, step by step, over and over again for two hours. Even when a freezing downpour rolled in, he showed no sympathy. “If last Friday had been worth half a shit, we wouldn’t have to do this now.”’

While Kyle agreed with Mr. Garrison in theory, the practice was completely different. By rehearsal’s everyone was exhausted and soaked to the bone. Kyle and Butters were putting away some equipment when Cartman came by for another round.

“So apparently you and Stan went for a little joyride after school.”

Kyle didn’t bother looking away from his work. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“Just like a fucking fag - moving in on a straight guy when he’s at his weakest.”

“Fuck off, fatass!”

Cartman sauntered off saying: “Don’t come chasing after me when Stan rejects you, fag!”

Kyle growled through the rest of his work; Butters kept his distance.


	6. Chapter 6

Homecoming week came and went with very little fanfare for Kyle. He had never been invested in school spirit - though he, Kenny, Butters, Craig and Tweek dressed up as the power rangers on Friday - and would not be attending the dance. And sure enough, Stan decided he would also not attend.

**Stan -- 10/26, 10:10 pm**

**Hey dude, I hope this isn’t too short notice, but are we still good for that no-homecoming this Saturday?**

Kyle responded they were, though Stan could not know his mix of joy and anxiety. In the afternoon before the homecoming game, Kyle tore through his closet. “Holy shit, what am I going to wear?”

The question had been directed at Kenny, who was laying on Kyle’s bed texting. “How about clothes?”

“Ha-fucking-ha, dude,” Kyle said as he shoved a couple of shirts into the back of his closet. “This is serious! We’re going to be spending most of the night together.”

“What happened to ‘He’s straight and nothing’s gonna happen’?”

Kyle didn’t look Kenny in the eyes as he said: “That’s no excuse to not look good.”

“Jesus Christ, dude.” Kenny threw his phone down on the bed. “Just wear some athletic shorts and a t-shirt.”

“You think so?”

“I’m sure it will be fine.”

After Kenny left, Kyle stood in front of the mirror and took stock of himself. He was 18 now, with his trademark bushy orange hair and freckles that seemed to pop off his cheeks. He’d attained neither muscle nor fat as he had grown, and was just as thin and lanky as he’d ever been. His choice of attire was simple enough: a green t-shirt with his highschool’s name and logo, and orange athletic shorts which matched the hue of his hair.

It would all have to do.

The game itself was unremarkable. The opposition, the Estes Elks, put up more of a fight than any other team, but they were dealt with just like any other team - the final score was South Park 35, Estes 17.

The band’s halftime show was a far cry from the disaster that it had been at the first game, though mostly because Mr. Garrison decided that they would stand in a wide block and play directly towards the stands. He was uncharacteristically complementary as the band came off the field and filed back into the stands. “Good job, children. Maybe we can just be a standing band instead.”

Stan was prompted to make a speech at the end of the game. He seemed somewhat nervous for a quarterback who had led his team to a 5-0 record, which had not happened in over a decade. “I don’t want to say too much. I just want to thank you all for coming out to support us, the guys for working hard in practice, our families for keeping us going, and…” He glanced over at the band and Kyle could feel Stan’s eyes on him. “...and I want to thank the band, for coming out Friday after Friday and really showing some school spirit.” 

There was a brief pause before Stan’s uncle Jimbo shouted: “Hell yeah, go band!”

The crowd erupted into shouts and applause which took Mr. Garrison aback. “Jesus Christ, it wasn’t that good, but I guess I’ll take it.”

Kyle, Butters and Kenny made a quick run to Shari’s later that evening, a time honored tradition observed after most games.

“It looks like the arts finally got some recognition,” said Kenny, winking at Kyle.

Kyle flushed and looked away. “God that was embarrassing. Nice of him, but so embarrassing.”

Butters had been paying close attention to his pie-milkshake through the night, but finally broke his silence. “So what? He’s just showing some love to the band. Everyone needs a little love.”

“Now you sound like Chef.” Butters shrugged and went back to his milkshake. 

Kenny put his arm around Butters, pulled him close and said: “If you want to know about showing some love, we could give you some pointers.”

Kyle screwed up his face slightly and looked to Butters who only shrugged again and said: “You can borrow our sex tape if you want.”

Kyle stuck his tongue out and pretended to wretch. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

On homecoming evening, Stan arrived promptly at 7 with Burger King in hand. Kyle’s mother was the one to open the door. “You must be Stan! Kyle has talked so much about you.”Ike happened to be in the living room watching a football game and Stan talked with him about how his middle school team was doing.

Kyle bolted down the stairs to rescue Stan and bring him up to his room where he had carefully laid out his bed on the floor. They wouldn’t have to sit too close or anything but they’d still be able to see his laptop.

“Your family is nice,” remarked Stan as he closed the door to the room.

“I feel very lucky.” Kyle motioned for them to sit on the bed, which Kyle did first. 

To his surprise, Stan sat relatively close, leaving only about a foot between them. “So, which bad movie should we watch first?”

They started with After Earth which both boys commentated through as they ate the food Stan brought. Then they grabbed some drinks from downstairs and checked out a new game which Kyle had bought.

“Damn, dude; I knew you were kinda nerdy, but I didn’t imagine Total War series nerdy.”

Kyle stuck his tongue out immaturely. “You’re just jealous of my refined taste in games.”

Stan put his hands up in mock surrender, but he still gave the game a try. He wasn’t a natural at it, but some pointers from Kyle on how to “play the right way” made Stan a quick learner.

They followed that with a remake of Old Boy which Kyle fell asleep halfway through.

“Hey. Hey, Kyle.”

Kyle blinked a few times to wake himself up. The first thing he noticed was that he and Stan were sitting right next to each other. The second thing he noticed was that his head was laid right on Stan’s shoulder. “Shit, dude, I’m sorry. I guess this movie was worse than I thought.” Kyle made a kind of awkward laugh as he lifted his head up.

Stan patted Kyle’s bare thigh as he said: “You aren’t wrong, dude.”

That sent a shiver up Kyle’s spine which woke him up immediately. He could feel his heartbeat pick up and his arousal spike. He dared to look Stan in the eye, and that was a fatal error, because once Kyle did he lost control for a moment and moved his head forward to kiss Stan.

He caught himself at the last minute just an inch away from Stan’s face. He pulled back, saying: “Sorry, dude, I got a little light-headed there for a second.”

Stan put on a sympathetic face. “Maybe I should head out; we’ve both had a long couple of days.” He unceremoniously gathered up the movies, then he and Kyle walked down to the front door. “Thanks for having me over, this was fun.”

“Better than homecoming?”

“Much better.” Stan flashed his trademark smile, but rather than patting Kyle’s shoulder he pulled him into a big hug. “See you on Monday, dude.”

“See ya.” Kyle stood at the door and watched Stan get into his car and drive away.

“Stan seems nice.” Mrs. Broflovski was just walking towards the stairs. She surveyed her son’s demeanor and body language. “I can see why you like him.”

Kyle followed his mother up the stairs. “I don’t think he’s like that.”

They reached the top of the stairs, and Mrs. Broflovski gave her son a long hug. “Well whatever happens, we’ll be here to support you.”

“Thanks, mom.”


	7. Chapter 7

Stan was absent the following Monday, which worried Kyle. _Is it because of what happened on Saturday?_ He mentioned it to Clyde before anatomy, who said that Stan had come down with something. Clyde continued with generic talk of a bug going around, whole households getting it, et cetera.

Whatever was going around had claimed Mr. Garrison as well, so concert band was handed over to a substitute teacher. She was very young and had no musical experience, so she sent everyone off to the practice rooms, though most just left after attendance was taken. Kyle and Butters were two such people who opted to leave and went to see a movie.

“I don’t think Stan is playing hooky because you almost kissed him the other day.” They were sitting at the back of the theater waiting for the previews to start. “He still has to sit next to you for another couple months.”

Kyle tried to convince himself of that. “I just don’t know what to do, man. I’ve fallen even harder for him and it’s not going to get easier to spend time with him. Maybe I should just push him away a bit.”

Butters put a handful of popcorn in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Ja know… mabbe he jis a little bi.”

“What makes you say that?”

Butters washed down the popcorn before answering. “Just a feeling. How else could he be so cool with Kenny being bi?”

“But he and Kenny have been friends since elementary- no, preschool!”

“People grow apart over stupid shit like orientation. Stan is at least tolerant, but it seems to me that he’s tolerant in an empathetic way. If that makes sense.”

“I mean, yes, but… I don't know, dude.”

“Also! You’re a known quantity, so if he was worried about being around all of this,” he waved his hand in a circle outlying Kyle’s face, “then why would he spend all this time with you? As a friend?”

The previews started up, so Kyle didn’t respond. He instead spent the whole movie considering and debating what Butters had said.

The better part of that evening was spent trying to put together a suitable message to send to Stan. Kyle famously focused in on artificial details and could not bring himself around to a version he liked. He eventually settled on: **Hey dude. I heard that you’ve got the bug that’s going around. Are you doing okay otherwise?**

The promptness of Stan’s response was a relief to Kyle.

**Stan — 10/14, 5:43 pm**

**Hey dude, thanks for asking! I’m actually not feeling “that” bad, but enough to not want to go to school.**

Kyle typed and sent without restraint: You’re being naughty again ;-)

He stared at the screen helplessly, kicking himself for sending something so stupid and obliviously flirty.

Stan again replied promptly.

**Stan — 10/14, 5:44 pm**

**Me naughty? You’re the one who tried to plant one on me the other day. Or as you called it, “feeling lightheaded”**

Kyle again stared at the screen, but he sent no quick response. He had suddenly become very self-conscious and had no idea of how to respond to that. Fortunately, Stan did for him.

**Stan — 10/14, 5:49 pm**

**I’m not upset, just fyi**

Kyle decided to skip the bullshit: **So what are you feeling then?**

**Stan — 10/14, 5:52 pm**

**Idk. I’ll be honest and say I’ve never considered myself gay or bi or anything, but I guess I wouldn’t have minded if you had kissed me? It would have explained this damn cold :-P**

Kyle rubbed his thumb over his screen, typing a letter here and deleting one there, trying to formulate something meaningful. **You probably know how I feel about you, but I also don’t want you to be freaked out about it if we keep hanging out.** He followed that up with: **Does that make sense?**

**Stan — 10/14, 5:55 pm**

**I get you. I’m treading unknown water a bit with all of this, but I’m not put off by it. I mean, I’ve been friends with Kenny since I wore diapers, so you know where I stand with you fine folk.**

Kyle responded with a simple: **Yeah.**

**Stan — 10/14, 6:00 pm**

**We should hang out again and see where things go.**

Kyle: **Really?**

**Stan — 10/14, 6:01 pm**

**Really. I mean I’d like for this all to be kept on the DL and us to take it slow, but I’m open-minded :-)**

Kyle asked if they could exchange phone numbers, which they did, then Stan excused himself to go to dinner, though he said that he’d likely be back in school tomorrow. Kyle read through the conversation over and over again, trying to take in how drastically his relationship with Stan had changed in an instant.


	8. Chapter 8

Once Stan was back in school, he and Kyle decided to go out that Friday evening as there would be no football game or other obligations. Stan mentioned something in passing about his family going up to Denver for the evening to see his sister, but it flew right past Kyle. He spent most of the week in an anxious stupor, and by the time concert band rolled around on Friday, he was missing entrances in his music.

“What the hell? Kyle. Kyle!” Mr. Garrison impatiently tapped his music stand with his baton. “It might be Friday, but that part isn't going to play itself.”

Kyle let out a quiet, annoyed sigh but made sure to come in correctly the next time that section came around. Concert band had been improving at a quick rate, though Kyle owed that to the intense rehearsal regimen that Mr. Garrison had set up. Every four weeks they picked out a new set of music and worked it hard, only to switch it up when a new four week period came around.

Butters caught up with Kyle after school, and asked if Kyle would be interested in watching _The Perfection_ with he and Ken. Kyle declined, though he gave no reason other than already having plans.

Kyle had wondered what they should do that evening. Dinner and a movie seemed like a straightforward enough suggestion, but that was too much like a date. They could have done another night in, but that was far too casual for Kyle to accept. Eventually they decided on a low key hotdog joint that frequently showed sports: by chance, the Colorado Buffaloes would be plaything the BSU Broncos that evening.

Stan teased Kyle about getting there early, but he was soon thankful; the game was at 7, but even at 6 it was busy. “Damn, dude, looks like you knew what you were talking about.”

“Better safe than sorry.” They had sat at a booth which was perpendicular to a large screen, so they wouldn’t have to sit next to each other to watch the game. Kyle was somewhat relieved for that - he had chosen a red polo-shirt and somewhat skinnier than usual black jeans, which had seemed like a good decision at the time but now he felt very unsure of.

Stan was completely at ease, also in dark jeans but with his letterman jacket and a Colorado Buffaloes tee.

“Are you thinking of continuing football in college?”

“Not really. I’ve done it for so long that I’m a little worn out. Instead I’ve looked into programs like exercise science; something having to do with athletics without having to do athletics.” A waitress came with water. When she left, Stan asked: “And what about you? I’m guessing music performance?”

“You guess correctly, but I’ll probably double major in education just so that I can have that in my back pocket.”

“Thinking of succeeding Mr. Garrison when he retires?”

Kyle grimaced. “That’s an honor I could do without.”

They left at halftime and opted to watch the rest of the game at Stan’s house. It wasn’t until they arrived that Kyle remembered Stan mentioning that his family was gone for the evening. It was just an empty house and two boys with a lot of hormones.

They had just sat on the couch when Stan turned to Kyle and gave the slightest sultry rise of his eyebrows. That was enough to set Stan off.

Kyle wasn’t no time in moving towards Stan to kiss him, firmly sticking the landing. Stan weakly smiled and grunted a, “Heh.”

Kyle didn’t bother responding. He put a hand on Stan’s neck and pulled him back in for another kiss while Stan reached over to Kyle’s furthest leg and pulled him onto his lap.

After months of pent up sexual frustration, this is exactly what Kyle needed. Hard and desperate kisses coupled with Stan running his hands up Kyle’s legs and down his back.

Stan switched to Kyle’s neck prompting the readhead to again exclaim, “Holy shit,” in approval. Kyle felt Stan give both of his hips a firm squeeze moments later, causing Kyle to let out the slightest gasp right in Stan’s ear.

“Do you want-”

“Yes. Your room.”

They were there in an instant, peeling off shoes and clothes until Stan hovered over Kyle, penis in hand ready to guide himself in. “Ready?”

Kyle kissed Stan. “Ready.”

“So what did you think?” They had been lying in Stan’s bed for about ten minutes when he asked.

Kyle wasn’t sure how to respond. It had been as good a first time as he could have hoped for, but it hadn’t been the life-changing experience he thought it would. He didn’t feel any different than he had before - except that his legs were sore from being pinned by Stan, and they probably could have used more lube. Kyle decided on a neutral response. “I liked it. You’re a good lover.” He added a slight nuzzle of his head into Stan’s chest.

Stan seemed satisfied by that. He grabbed a joint off of his desk, lit it and took a drag, then offered it to Kyle. Kyle had never smoked pot, but as today was a day of firsts, he took it anyway and did his best to take a drag. He coughed up most of it, much to Stans amusement. “You’re a treasure,” said Stan as he ran a hand through Kyle’s bushy hair.

“I’m- _COUGH_ \- glad you think so.” Stan grinned as he took the joint back and took another drag.

They then stayed that way for a long time, Kyle half-dozing while Stan mindlessly mess with Kyle’s hair and finished off the joint. The room became a smoky haze, and Stan eventually got up to open a window. Kyle also got up and walked behind him; he wrapped his arms around Stan, leaned his head against his back and asked: “Now what? I know you want to keep this dl, which is fine, but… I dunno. Where do we go from here? What do you want us to be?”

Stan guided them back to the bed; he sat up against the bed board and leaned Kyle’s back against his chest. “I’m not sure. I really do like you, Kyle, but… I’m not out like you, and…” He stared off into a corner of the room for a minute. He finally sighed and said, “I’m scared of what people will say.” Kyle took one of Stan’s hands and asked him to go on. “You’re family is _so_ supportive of you and you have a great friend group too. My parents are progressive, but I’m not sure how they’d feel about me dating a guy. And my friends… oh boy. There are some opinions.” He sighed again. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m cutting you short or anything by not being FB official - for whatever that’s worth. I just like my privacy and where I’m at with the people in my life and I’m worried about messing it up.”

Kyle needed no time to give his response. “I understand all of that, and I want you to know that I’m okay with it.” Stan seemed surprised by the immediacy and conciseness of the answer. “When I was first coming to grips with all of this,” he waved his hand around them, “I felt and thought the exact same way. And while I would love to be FB official and tell people _Hey, I’m dating the quarterback_ , I know that you need your time and privacy to figure out this side of you.” He looked up at Stan who had a surprised look on his face, but he eventually nodded.

“Thanks, Kyle. That really means a lot to me.”

Kyle smiled and kissed Stan’s chest. “I solemnly swear to not tell Butters or Kenny.”

Stan snorted. “Oh my god. Could you imagine how they would react?”


End file.
